Hey Mickey
by AsWrittenBy
Summary: Her name was cute, and her power weird. But that didn't mean he was going to atone for his past and aim to be her hero. {Rating because of language and themes and Lash's devilish looks.}
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Mickey** |** Sky High**

* * *

OC

Mackenna 'Mickey' Listler. Senior. Dark, messy hair. Dark brown eyes. Sun kissed skin. Men's comic shirts and shorts. Lace up ankle boots. Proud of her sidekick status. Lash's 'Heroes Coexist' partner.

* * *

Principal Powers' office was the same as it always was. Boring.

My head fell back, an irritated groan leaving my throat. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Speed looking just as bored as I was.

Powers had insisted we be at the school early, too early for me, and now she was making us wait. I glanced at the ugly clock on her wall. Nearly forty five minutes of us waiting in uncomfortable chairs for a woman who seemed to only have a white in her wardrobe.

After a few more agonizing minutes of nothing but the sound of Speed's foot rapidly tapping the floor, the door opened and Powers walked in. Her eyes went over us briefly before she went around her desk to sit in the comfortable looking chair. Of course she'd give herself back support, not caring about her visitors. And I'm the bad guy.

"You have thirty eight cracks in your ceiling," Speed offered. I half-snorted when Powers sent him a look. She shouldn't've left us alone for so long. It's a wonder we didn't trash the place to ease our boredom.

"I'm sure you two are just as ready as I am to have this discussion be short," She started and already I felt like dozing off. "So I'll cut right to it. As part of your probation, you are expected to participate in a new program the school has started to boost the relationship between heroes and hero support,"

"Sidekicks," I snorted.

Powers sent me a scolding look. I shrugged. "The program is named Heroes Coexist, and that's exactly what you'll be doing. Coexisting. The students chosen for the program, which includes the the two of you, will be assigned partners that would never be considered before during graduation to learn how to work together and prove that hero support does not depend on their hero,"

She stopped talking, looking at us expectantly. I suppose she was hoping we'd be just a little bit interested, but a quick look at Speed told me that neither one of us cared. We were only here to get out of super juvie. Not a fun place.

"Do you accept?" Powers asked, something glinting in her eye. I'm pretty sure it was glee over knowing we were doing the program whether we wanted to or not.

I raised by hand. "Yes, Lash?"

"If our partner's are of the opposite sex, are we expected to 'coexist' even more than others?" I asked innocently. Powers' eyes narrowed.

Before she could chastise me, the bell rang, effectively cutting her off. She stood up, straightening out her white skirt. Walking around her desk, she opened her office door, and turned to us. "Follow me,"

Speed was up first, shocker, leaving me to trail behind the two of them as Powers led us to the gym. Ah, the memories this place brought. That's the first locker I ever shoved someone into. At this school.

The gym wasn't nearly as filled as I thought it would be, but still too many heroes in diapers for my liking. The human popsicle was among them, and I absent mindedly rubbed my neck.

Powers walked briskly to the platform in the middle of the room, gathering the attention of most of the students. Coach Boomer was waiting patiently for her, still in his way too short shorts. I think he shaved his legs.

"May I have your attention, please," You've already got it. "As I hope you all went through the packet explaining the workings and goals of Heroes Coexist, I'll keep this short," Like Boomer's shorts.

"When your name is called, you will come forward and greet your partner. Shake hands, hug, get married, doesn't matter. Make a good impression, because you're stuck with them for the year," Oh, Boomer, how I've missed your sincerity and compassion. "There are no trading partners, so don't be a whiner baby, and cry because you got stuck with someone who doesn't like the same bad music as you do,"

I rolled my eyes. My arms suddenly felt stiff, and I felt the need to stretch them out. I searched the crowd for a victim, my eyes falling on small girl worrying her lip. Smirking, I let my arms fall to my side, stretching, moving around everyone's legs until I reached her.

As discreetly as possible, big deal for me, I untied her boots and laced them up to each other. Once my arm was back to normal, I clasped my hands behind my back and looked to the side, as innocent as a newborn koala.

Speed had followed my arm's trek and was holding back a smile. "Dude, what if she's a hero?" He whispered.

"How could she possibly know it's me? I'm _all _the way over here, after all," The girl had let her bottom lip, now red and swollen, go and was looking around with a smile.

"Ernesto Jacobo and Fiona Waters," Hey, I know ol' Ernie. He was one of my favorite sidekicks. He sure knew how to take a swirlie.

"Br- Speed Nelson and Noel Abbot," I chuckled at Speed's real name almost being used. He glared at me before running onto the platform, beating his partner by a long shot. A tall redhead with freckles all over her face walked up, looking terrified about being Speed's partner for the year. She sent a pleading look to Boomer and Powers, who acted like they didn't see it.

Speed ran back over to me, leaving his new partner to look momentarily lost. She sighed, tugging on the braid her bright hair was in, and slowly walked over to us, stopping a few feet away. I nearly laughed at her nervousness.

Melting Point got paired up with a shifter I remembered going against in Save the Citizen. Neither looked to pleased with the partnership, but didn't say anything. They shook hands and walked off in opposite directions, not making any more niceities.

"Mickey Listler and Lash Livingston," I froze for a second at my name being called. Some turned their attention to me, and I smirked at them, sending them a mocking wave.

I resisted the urge to just stretch onto the platform, and walked to it. As I made my way up, I searched for the 'Mickey' that was going to be stuck with me for the year.

The girl whose boots I tied together made a step forward. Her eyes widened as she fell forward, her hands reaching out to break her fall. She landed with a grunt of pain, her face hitting the gym floor. Okay, maybe not the best way to start a partnership.

Mickey rolled over, her eyes closed, and slung her arm over her forehead. After a few seconds, she looked down at her boots and made an unimpressed look.

I looked away, ignoring the accusatory looks I was already getting.

"How did this happen? I don't remember tying them like that," Mickey's muttering caught my attention as she walked onto the platform, her boots in her hands. She was trying earnestly to untie the tight knot her laces were stuck in. Heh, she had striped socks on. "Of course, it could be possible that some guy with stretchy arms did it when I wasn't looking,"

She looked up at me, a glint in her dark eyes. "But, oh, who would do that?"

"Hey," I ignored the obvious rhetorical and taunting question and held my hand out to her. She gave up trying to untie her laces, holding her boots by the knotted strings in one hand. "I'm Lash,"

She stared at her empty hand before shrugging and taking my own. "Mickey. And I swear if you make a Mickey Mouse joke, I'll tie you in a bow,"

Powers looked like she had actually expected what the girl said. Boomer just looked bored.

"And _I _swear if you call me Stretch, I'll tell Minnie you cheated on her," The small smile that had taken place vanished, and she glared at me. She looked like a puppy.

"What did I just say?" Mickey took a step closer to me. Boomer decided to intervene and stepped between us.

"Okay, okay. As much as I would like to see you tie him up in a pretty little bow, I'm stopping this. You've met, you shook hands, you threatened one another. As far as I'm concerned, you're best friends. Now get off my platform," I half-expected Boomer to shout the last word.

Mickey narrowed her eyes even more, and clapped her hands together. With a flourish, she separated her hands, glitter falling over the coach's head. Boomer's eye twitched.

Seriously? That's her power? Of course I get the party trick sidekick.

"That's a good look for you, Coach," I snarked. "Brings out your eyes," I swear he growled. Powers gave Mickey and I disapproving looks that didn't really seem to bother either of us. She couldn't possibly expect me to behave entirely just because I was one probabtion.

Mickey moved around Boomer and jumped off the platform, ignoring the stairs. I mock saluted the coach and followed after her. She was sitting on the floor next to Speed, having gotten her laces untied and was tugging them on her feet, talking animatedly to him as if _he_ was her partner.

When I reached them, Speed sent me a grin. Not good. "Dude, she's trying to see if you have any embarrassing childhood nicknames or pictures. I'm tempted to be honest,"

Mickey looked up to me, smiling. Being honest, it surprised me to see her smile willingly at me. She looked me up and down, her lips pursed before standing up. "I'm guessing Pookie? Huggie Bear? Bugaboo? It's not Pumpkin is it? Please tell me it's not Pumpkin, 'cos my nona calls me Punkin and that's too close for my liking," She stopped talking when she realized what she said.

I raised a brow. "So, _Punkin,_" I drawled as I hung my arm over her shoulders. She narrowed her eyes at the nickname. "I take it we're going to be spending quite some time together,"

Her eyes went over my face. "Your place or mine?"

Speed choked on his laughter.

"I was thinking on school grounds. Y'know, really stick it to the man or something," She had yet to push my arm off of her. The curled ends of her dark hair tickled my hand. A glance down at her mostly bare legs and I saw that she hadn't laced her boots up. Silly girl.

"Well- oh, shite, time to go," Mickey's 'cursing' brought my attention back to the others in the gym. Students were following Coach Boomer out of the room, Powers already gone. Ten bucks says she 'cometed away!'

"Where exactly are we going?" Speed asked his partner who looked like she was caught between waiting for her partner and walking with her friends.

"Bonding class," She answered, not making eye contact with Speed, who didn't seem to care or notice. She tugged at the end of her braid again.

"What the hell is a bonding class?" Red jumped a bit at the mild swear. I rolled my eyes.

"It's in the name," Mickey answered as the four of us started walking after the other students. My arm was still on her shoulder. She smelled like a rainy day. Ew, no, bad thoughts, Lash, bad thoughts. "A class, for us, to bond," I'm not sure if Speed caught the condescending way she spoke.

"Bonding with you should be fun," I wiggled my eyebrows when she looked back up at me. She shouldn't be this short with legs like that.

I guess she noticed where my eyes were because she pulled at her shorts. I don't think I've seen a girl at Sky High wear a boy's Deadpool shirt with denim shorts before. Not that I'm complaining.

There was a bit of glitter on her hands that rubbed off on her shorts.

I scowled at the reminder of her powers. Conjuring glitter didn't seem to have much use beyond birthday parties and pleasing thirteen year old girls. I wonder how Boomer reacted the first time she made glitter fall over him. Sound barrier probably broke a few times.

"Pick up the pace!" Boomer's yell made all of us jump and realize we were several feet behind the others. It didn't bother me much, and Red was the only one who walked faster to catch up to the other students.

"What's up with your face?" My eyes fell on Mickey again, who had a brow raised. She had thick eyelashes.

"Boomer in shorts," I lied. Not exactly the best way to start off by mentioning her powers sucked. Even I knew when to bite my tongue. Well, around a pretty girl.

She sort of snorted. "You should see the shorts my dad wears to play tennis. I think he's subtly trying to get me to stop wearing shorts all the time. I'm not, I like the freedom, but it's a good try. My mom says he looks good in them, but I think she's just being a good wife 'cos she can never look him straight in the eye when she says it. But sometimes she smacks his bum, so you never know,"

So she's a rambler. She's a rambler and I'm stuck with her for a year without locker stuffing and swirlies to distract me. I glanced at her legs again. Okay, maybe it's not so bad.

"By the way, you should know that if you look at my legs with that smirk on your face one more time, I'm punching you in the throat," Mickey threatened with a smile.

A threat coming from her reminded me of a puppy trying to growl for the first time. She reminded me of a puppy in all, actually. Probably the eyes. Yeah, she had puppy eyes.

"Did you just say I have puppy eyes?" She questioned, her hand reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ears.

Busted. "What? No, of course not," I scoffed. She raised her eyebrow at me, but didn't say anything else about it.

"What year are you in?"

"Senior," I wondered if she was pacified at Homecoming last year. I tried imagining her as a baby, with puppy eyes, blanketed by a dress. My bet it was black.

Shaking my head of the thoughts of a the girl I still had my arm around, I looked forward, _not_ noticing her looking at me with amused confusion. Nope. Because I'm Lash Livingston and I'm not attracted to party trick sidekicks in boots. I glanced at her legs again.

Okay, maybe a little.

But damn her if that meant I was going to reform from my villainous ways. Life'd be too boring without them.

So I stretched my arm out to Red's feet, and grabbed onto her white tennis shoe. She fell with a shriek, not even holding her hands out to break the fall. Luckily, for her more than me, she was close to Meltdown, whatever his name was, and he caught her haphhazardly, nearly groping her in the process.

Speed and I laughed freely. Some of the students at the front of the group who didn't know all of what happened let a few chuckles escape at Red and Puddles embracing each other. Mickey stepped out from under my arm, staring up at me with flamed cheeks. Heh, cute.

I smirked at her. "Why you look so surprised, _Punkin? _I am Lash Livingston after all," I taunted as I leaned in closer to her. Damn, there's the smell of rain.

If I was a smarter man, I would've noticed her raising her clenched fist up, but her scent had me distracted. If I was smarter man, I would've listened to Speed's half assed warning.

And if I was a smarter man, I would've gotten out of the way of her incoming fist.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Mickey** | **Sky High**

* * *

Lash Livingston is not a smart man.

* * *

I stared up at Mickey in shock, my mouth agape and my nose throbbing. She didn't seem to care if she had actually caused me pain, satisfied with getting a good hit in any way. My hand went up to my nose, checking for blood. Clean. Still hurt.

Mickey gave me one last look over before huffing and stalking off. She checked on Red, even smoothing down the bright hair, and turned her head to give me a half-hearted glare.

Speed was next to me in a second, not even bothering to hold back his loud laughter. Bastard. "I told you duck,"

"I didn't hear you," I grumbled. "I was distracted,"

"Staring at her chest?" He nodded with a knowing smirk.

"No! She smells like rain and it made me lightheaded," I defended. I hadn't moved to get up off the cold floor, even as Boomer and his lackies walked around the corner.

Speed stared at me. "You got decked 'cos she smells like water?"

"Rain," I argued, realizing my admission was gonna bite me in the ass and run back across the room before anyone noticed. Fun.

"Whatever," Speed waved off. He glanced over his shoulder. "She's still standing there, y'know,"

I craned my neck, stupid of me really, to look around Speed and saw that she was still standing there, looking in my direction. Or maybe at Speed's ass. Nah, definitely me.

Before I could send her a little wave of submission that probably wasn't very genuine, she stomped back over to stand in front of me, staring down her small nose at me. Oh, no, puppy eyes.

"Are you gonna sit on your ass all day or walk me to bonding class?" Mickey asked, her hands on her hips. Her legs were right in front of me and I saw little white scars around her knees. Cute. No, not cute. Ugly. Yup, ugly little cute scars. "Or just stare at my legs again," She offered after noticing my gaze.

It's either your legs or your puppy eyes, darling.

Let's pray I didn't say that out loud.

With an exasperated sigh, she clapped her hands together and opened them over my head, a rain of glitter falling on me. I scowled. Threatening sidekicks was going to be hard with glitter stuck in my hair.

"What was that for?" I demanded, getting up. Speed had already run to our class, leaving me to her mercy. Best friends forever.

"It got your attention, didn't it?" Her hands were still on her hips and her laces were still untied. Nope, not cute. "Can we just get to class now?" Okay, a little cute.

I didn't say anything, just turned and started walking in the direction the others had gone. She took a moment to catch up to me. Not my fault she had short legs that were too long for her own good. That didn't even make sense to me.

"You're a jackass, you know?" Mickey asked casually. "But if I have to be stuck with you for the year, I'd rather be on your good side. Or less bad side. Indifferent side? I don't know, I just wanna be on it," She was rambling again.

"You punched my face,"

"You tripped my cousin,"

I felt some of the color leave my face. Cousin? Of course it was her cousin. I tripped family. Not some girl Mickey secretly wanted to push off the edge of the school, but family.

Eh, she'll get over it.

I looked at Mickey's face expecting to see some form of anger. In her face or her eyes, but there wasn't any. Realization. "She's not your cousin, is she?"

She cracked a smile. "Of course not, I don't even remember her name. But I have a weakness for freckles," I didn't have freckles.

We stopped in front of a door with a handmade sign that said 'Bonding Experience 101' in a rainbow of colors. It looked like Stronghold's group of friends.

Mickey opened the door harshly, letting it fly open and hit the wall and nearly swing back hard on us as we walked in. Boomer sent us an annoyed glare. I mentally pleaded for him to put some pants on.

"Listler, Livingston," We really didn't have the last names to scold with. "Since you've finally decided to grace us with your presence, you two can sit front and center,"

I looked at the the table for two at the front of the class. There were no names carved in it, no gum stuck under it. How was I expected to be productive while sitting at that?

Mickey seemed to have the same mind set because her nose scrunched up at the pristine shape our table was in. There was a perfectly good one in the back that I know had my name carved in it, along with a few inappropriate drawings.

Boomer wasn't having it. "_Sit!_"

He blew our hair back, along with several papers and pencils, and we quickly took our seats. We clasped out hands together on top of the table, the picture of innocence. Except for the mercenary printed on Mickey's shirt.

Coach Boomer grumbled to himself, still loud enough for everyone to hear him of course, and walked out of the room. He passed by a woman with dread locks on his way out and wished good luck. The woman ignored him and walked behind the desk at the front.

Mickey and I simultaneously stood up, our chairs shrieking against the floor, and walked to the empty and defaced table in the back. Our teacher didn't say anything, just looked at the now empty chairs with a puzzled look on her face.

The woman shook it off, her dreads flying, the beads woven into them clacking. "Hello all, my name is Genevieve Malston, but you may call me Gen if you so please," The smell of hippie hit my nose. "I will be teaching you this semester in how to bond with your partner,"

No shite, Sherlock. Get on with it.

Gen, blegh, smiled at me and for a second I thought she was a mind reader. Then she waved her hand and the lights dimmed except for pockets of space between each pair. I half expected for her to tie us up with vines.

"Whoa," Mickey was staring at the light hovering over our table with a look of awe. She reached out to touch it, giggling when it wavered a bit. I'd almost forgotten half the class was sidekicks and weren't used to being in an actual class with heroes.

Suddenly struck with an idea, Mickey clapped her hands together over the light and separated them, little pink sparks of light falling into the halo of light. They met and reacted, setting off a bit of a light show. Cool.

"I thought you could only do glitter?" I whispered, not sure why, as she did it again, this time with blue sparks.

"Obviously that's not true," She breathed, her eyes stuck to the light show she was creating. Once again her hands clapped, this time the sparks all different colors. She conjured up about twice as much this time, making the effect bigger and longer. The other students looked at our table, being nosy little pricks.

"Aren't you supposed to be 'bonding?'" Speed said the word with an almost sneer. When had he arrived?

"We are bonding," Mickey answered. "Bonding over my awesome display of power," She smirked, crossing her arms over the table.

"You make pretty things come out of your hands when you clap, calm down. You ain't nothing special," Her eyes narrowed at his words and I wondered if he forgotten that she punched me for tripping a girl she didn't know. My nose throbbed at the reminder.

Mickey clapped her hands hard, but at the last second rubbed them together. Apparently, that canceled her order because when she separated her hands, nothing fell out. Speed got the hint though, and with a pointed look at my glitter covered head, ran back to his own table.

I turned back to her. She was biting her lip again, and staring intently at the light.

"So, what are we supposed to be doing. Moonshine didn't really explain anything,"

She looked at me. "We're supposed to be bonding," She mocked.

I rolled my eyes. "I know. But how?"

Mickey worried her lip as she thought about how to answer. She really should stop that, it just makes her bottom lip red and wet and look, shiny things.

"My favorite color is orphan blue," She blurted out.

"Really? That doesn't seem like a color people should like. I mean, it has the word 'orphan' in it," I knew she didn't like my response because her eyes darted between her hands and my hair. A warning I guessed.

I sighed. "Mine's..." I trailed off, not knowing what I was going to say exactly.

Her eyes narrowed then widened. It was almost funny. "You don't have a favorite color?"

I shrugged, not thinking much of it. What was the big deal? "Guess not,"

Her eyes went up and down my form, even as I sat. "I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say your favorite color is..." If she says stripes, I'm punching her in the boob. "Red,"

"What?" Where did she get red from? I looked down at myself, searching for the color she had deemed my favorite. Nope, nothing. Black, white, stripes. "Why red?"

She half shrugged. "Dunno. You just look like you'd enjoy red," My eyes went to her shirt, where the very cocky, very _red,_ Deadpool was poised to strike. She looked down to, and I half expected her to blush. "Oops,"

"_Four Brothers_," I blurted out. She looked at me, confused. Stupid puppy eyes. "My favorite movie is _Four Brothers_,"

"Is that the one that shows Garrett Hedlund's sugary sweet ass?" Mickey asked innocently enough. I nodded. The words coming out of her mouth didn't go with her puppy eyes, but matched well enough with her legs. "Mine is _Heathers_,"

"Never seen it," Mickey looked offended at that.

"You have got to watch it. I mean, you thought _you_ were bad? This kid's going around making murders look like suicides with Winona Ryder," Her voice told me whoever 'he' was, the bad boy who beat out me, was attractive. Or at least sympathetic. Probably attractive.

Narrowing my eyes, I leaned in closer to her, this time mostly ignoring her scent. "Are you a virgin?"

"Excuse me?" Ah, there's a blush. It was cute. In a totally not cute and adorable way.

"Are. You. A. Virgin?" I asked again, our faces inches apart. Her cheeks were flaming and she was biting her lip again. Without realizing, I assume, she crossed her legs. "You are, aren't you?"

"What kind of question is that?" She muttered, turning away from me.

"Just trying to get to know my partner," I explained casually while leaning back in my chair, my feet going on top of the table. "Don't want any crazy ex-boyfriends showing up tryna kill me just 'cos you're a good lay,"

Mickey turned back to me, her cheeks pink, and had a look between a glare and embarrassment. "Then I guess I should ask you the same thing," She spat, but her cheeks were still flush.

It took me a moment to realize what she was implying. "Ya think I'm a good lay?" I asked, ignoring what she really meant by her comment.

"Well," Her face was back to normal. "You _are_ really bendy," I got her. All talk, no show.

"Yeah, there's this one thing I do with my leg where-" Speed interrupted me, having shot from his table to ours, creating a brief breeze in the room. He had a stupid smile on his face. Which never meant good unless you were bad.

"So, Minnie," His eyes widened mockingly when he messed up her name. "I heard from little ol' Duggy Mathers," Speed jammed his thumb in the direction of a mousy looking kid who looked in need of a swirlie. "That you're known as a bit of a prankster,"

"If need be," She answered slowly, not bothering to correct her name for him. All of us know he knew what it really was.

Speed licked his lips and gave her a once over. Red alert! Moonshine, Petunia, Persephone, Earthworm! Where was a teacher when you needed one? Oh, that's right, walking right over to us. I'm pretty sure this is the first time I've been relieved to see a teacher heading my way.

"Is there an issue?" Miss, um, Whatever asked, her eyes falling on Speed. The closest to a glare he was going to get from her, I guess.

Speed stood up, trying to decide if it was worth it. "Not at all. Just asking to borrow a pen," Guess it wasn't.

Mickey dug in her pocket with both hands, weirdo, and pulled out a Mickey Mouse pen. She held it out for Speed to take, which he did with raised brows, before he ran back to his table. Scaring the crap out of his partner, I might add.

"A Mickey Mouse pen?" I asked.

"Shut up. Everyone thinks they're so original when they give me Mickey Mouse stuff on Christmas or my birthday. I really wanna punch some of them,"

My nose ached. "So, what exactly is your power?" I leaned back a little in case she decided to give another demonstration.

Mickey took a moment to think. "The teachers think that when I clapped my hands together, the top layer of my skin shifts into glitter or confetti or sparks or whatever, and that when I separate my hands I just let gravity do the rest of the work,"

"You said the teachers think, so you don't agree?" I briefly wondered if she was holding back, like the tree hugger did last year.

She shrugged. "Eh, just seems weird that my _skin_ turns into _glitter_,"

"Well, I'm basically really stretchy rubber," I said, leaning harder back against my chair to pop my back.

"What happens to your bones when you stretch?" I paused. Huh, never really wondered about that.

Shrugging, "Dunno. Guess they just become stretchy, too. I do know it's pretty much impossible to break a bone when I stretch," I flexed my arms a bit as if too prove it. Or impress a pretty girl. Who knows?

"What time is it?" She asked.

"How should I know? Look at the clock,"

With a huff, she looked at the clock on the wall near the blackboard. Her nose scrunched up. "We have ten minutes left before we go to our next class,"

"What's our schedule anyway?"

She raised her brow at me. "You didn't read your schedule?"

I shrugged. "I didn't even know about Heroes Exist until this morning,"

"Well, that's smart," She waved off before she pulled a folded piece of paper from her back pocket. She unfolded it and handed it to me.

"What in the sweet heavens is Combat Coexisting?" I asked, my eyes trailing over the schedule a few times to remember it.

"Partners have to learn how to combine their powers in combat. Apparently, after last year's showing that sidekicks have more potential than just throwing the hero weapons, they want to let those in 'hero support' a chance to show what they can really do. You shoulda seen the smile on Layla's face during the assembly. I mean, I like her, but she should really cool it with the equal crap. I don't think she realizes that it sounds fake coming from a Class Four like her," I don't think she realizes she's rambling again. Oh, well.

"That cute guy in the neon, Zach I think, jumped up and started clapping before Powers was even finished. He was embarrassed, but I thought it was cute," Wait. She thought Glowstick was cute? The boy who looked like he bleached his hair every night? This girl had bad taste.

"You know, I'm starting to wish Speed was my partner. At least he wouldn't stare at my legs with a disgusted look on his face," Mickey's voice shook me from my thoughts, and I realized I _had_ been look at her legs while I had been thinking about her and Glow Worm in the throes of passion.

"Don't work yourself up, woman," Her eyes narrowed. Oops. "Your legs weren't what disgusted me. Calm down. By the way, during sex, do you take charge or are you a submissive little thing?" I asked casually. I had it pictured in my head the living night light would relish in being in charge. I mentally shuddered at the thought.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Where did that come from?" Mickey's face was red again, and she couldn't look me in the eye.

I shrugged. "I don't know. Just had the _urge_ to ask you," She visibly winced when I stressed the word 'urge' and I chuckled.

"Shut up, you mood swinging hair band," She spat, looking away from me entirely.

I smirked and propped my feet up on the table, leaning back casually in my chair. She wouldn't look at me, and was rubbing her hands together. She was almost pouting. It was cute.

"What's your favorite food?"

Mickey turned to me in surprise, obviously not expecting my question. "What?"

"What's your favorite food? Mine's barbeque pizza,"

"Oh, uh," She bit her lip. "Spaghetti with broken Hot Cheetos mixed in," That actually sounded good. "Favorite dessert?"

"German chocolate cake," I answered quickly. My mouth almost watered at the thought of the moist cake I routinely ordered from a bakery down the street from my house. "Yours?"

"Chocolate ice cream with macadamia nuts and caramel," She sure did have specific favorites. "Favorite superhero?"

"Rubber Man," I said like it was obvious. It really should've been. "Yours?

"Uh, that new guy on the scene. Superhoodie? Yeah, him," She smiled softly as she thought about the British bastard who always had a hoodie on. Oh, yeah, she had bad taste. I guess she caught my look. "What? There's nothing wrong with him,"

I shook my head. "It's the accent, isn't it? Girls always fall for British accents,"

Mickey laughed. "No, it's not the accent. I just love the way he uses parkour. And I like Finnish accents more than anything," She paused. "Or Southern accents. Not full on hick, but enough for the words 'pretty lady' to come out smooth. And if he's wearing jeans that fit right, and has that accent, I swear I'll melt like," She added as an after thought. Then she seemed to realize what she revealed.

"C'mon, it's bonding class. Revealing your fantasies just means we're being really good students. And we both know how much I love being a good student,"

"They're not fantasies. They're preferences, jerk," She glared at me.

"Potatoe, potah-toe," I waved off. Her glare strengthened. I raised my arms in mock surrender.

She let up on narrowing her eyes. "Time for combat, stretch pants," Mickey stood up, pushing her chair back, and started to follow after the other students filing out of the classroom.

I smirked, stretching my right arm out to wrap around her ankles as she took a step. She fell to the ground with a squeak, like a mouse, and was barely able to break her fall. She rolled over to glare up at me, rubbing her hands gently. I forgot her powers were in her hands.

Hey, she called me stretch pants.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey Mickey | Sky High

* * *

Lash has a tripping problem.

* * *

Mickey pushed herself up on her elbows, still glaring at me. Her foot shot out and she kicked my shin. My leg buckled and I fell to one knee.

"Someone's got anger issues," I groaned. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to trip the girl that I knew wasn't afraid to hit back.

"You tripped me! For no reason, I might add," She was almost pouting again, and she needed to stop. Her bottom lip was still a bit red and swollen. And distracting.

"You called me stretch pants," I muttered, standing up. I had warned her about calling me 'Stretch,' hadn't I? As far as I was concerned, not very far really, 'stretch pant's was more or less the same. I held my hand out for her to take and she did, squeezing my hand with more force than necessary. She didn't really need my help getting up, but it was better than irking her and getting hurt again.

Mickey dusted herself off before looking up to glare at me. "I'm going to end you," She threatened, somehow finding a way not to look like a puppy this time. She gave me a once over before she spun around on her heels and stomped out of the classroom, rubbing her hands together.

I wasn't worried. Nope, not at all. I followed quickly after her not because I was making sure she couldn't set anything up, but because we were partners, and partners arrive late to class together. I am Lash Livingston, and I am not afraid of a girl named after a mouse.

Mickey was pushing the gym doors open when I caught up with her. She sent me a glance over her shoulder before walking in without saying anything to me. Whatever. Little puppy girls who make glitter don't scare me.

My nose ached.

I followed in after her, not caring it was the second class I was late to. The others were already in their own areas waiting for the pale green man in the middle of the room to tell us what to do. I suppose if I weren't at Sky High a green man would be surprising. Oh, well.

Mickey had already picked a seat in the far corner of the gym, leaning against the wall and staring intently at the teacher. I walked over to her and leaned against the wall a few inches from her. She didn't acknowledge me. I didn't care.

"Now that we're all here," Our teacher started, sending Mickey and I a pointed look. I gave him a thumbs up which made his nostrils flare. "We may begin. My name is Coach Collins and I will be your instructor for this course. In Combat Coexisting, you will learn to utilize both your own and your partner's powers in combat. This will require you all to think harder than if you had been placed with the expected partner,"

How was I expected to use _glitter_ and _confetti_ in combat? Hope the enemy had a three year old daughter Mickey could gain the trust of with her party tricks? 'Cos that's a negative. Supers aren't ones to be taken down by arts and crafts. If anything it'll just make them madder.

"When I give the say so, you will face your partner and attack in a way to showcase your abilities. This is to give your partner an understanding of how your powers work, _not_ to injure or show off to the other students. Understood?" Collins looked over all of us with a look that said he just _knew_ he was better than us. Matter of opinion, and his opinion is wrong.

He blew his shrilly whistle. Most of the others jumped up and looked at their partners with confusion. Do they even know what powers each other had? What were they doing in the friggin' bonding class? My ego swelled a bit knowing _I _was a better student than some of them and it's only been a day. Spazzes.

Mickey stood up and looked at me with an almost bored expression. I sighed and pushed myself off the wall, facing her.

"Ladies first?" I offered.

"Go right ahead, then," She bowed with a flourish of her hand.

I scowled at her before stretching my arms out and wrapping them around her waist, lifting her up off the ground. She struggled in my grasp, kicking her legs out and clawing at my arms. Well, now I know I'm weak against puppy nails.

"Lash, put me down!" She shouted.

"How can I expect you to take on an enemy when you can't even take me on, huh, Punkin?" Mickey stopped struggling for a second to send me a glare.

"So, how's it going?" I asked, doing my best to look bored. Her wiggling around in my arms made me warm and her squeaks when I squeezed her a little were cute. Pathetic. They were pathetic.

"This isn't funny, Lash!"

"Who's laughing?"

"Lash!" Everytime she said my name, my chest tingled. That needs to stop. Once my hand was stretched over her mouth, everything was right in the world.

Until she clapped her hands and a bunch of teeny firecrackers fell on my arms. One popped, setting the others off, stinging my arms. She kept clapping her hands, adding more firecrackers until I had to let her go.

She started falling to the floor with a scream. Okay, so maybe neither of us thought out that plan very much. Well, it's not me who's falling.

"Lash!" She just had to scream my name, didn't she? Not Coach Collins, not Puddles, not even Speed. Nope, mine. Of course.

My arms shot out and caught her just a few feet from the ground. The force of her falling into my arms nearly made my knees buckle. I pulled my arms, and her I guess, back in so I was cradling her against my chest.

Her hair was everywhere, her skin was flush, and she was breathing hard. She wouldn't blame me, right?

"Uh, you okay?" I asked.

"Don't..." She breathed. "Don't like falling,"

Bad move.

"Well, think about what just happened as confrontational therapy," I offered. She looked up at me, glaring. Atta girl. "By the way, your fifteen minutes are up and you owe me three hundred dollars,"

She hit my chest. "I'm going to kill you, revive you, and kill you again," She muttered.

Oh, man, she was such a puppy.

"You can put me down now," She offered. I didn't really feel like putting her down though. Scratch that.

Once Mickey was on her feet again, her hands flew to her hair and she started smoothing it down. It really didn't do anything to relieve her sex hair.

"You're a bastard,"

"At your service,"

I really shouldn't let myself get distracted by the smell of rain coming from her when she's within arms reach of me. She clapped her hands and pushed them apart quickly, sending more firecrackers at me, this time getting my face. The loud pops and bursts of lights distracted me and by the time I was able to recover, her fist was already coming towards me. Not the face, not the face, not the face.

Oh, yay, she punched me in my stomach.

She punches really hard for a puppy. Maybe she's a Rottweiler.

"You're lucky you're cute, or your face would be smashed in," Mickey said, pointing an accusatory finger at me.

"You're lucky I'm on probation, or you'd be spending the rest of the day in a locker," I shot back.

She huffed, clearly fed up with me, and stomped back over to sit against the wall. Seeing as she wasn't going to do anything else in this class, I walked over and slid down the wall to sit next to her.

I didn't look at her, just kept my gaze on the other teams. Most of them were pathetic. A telekinetic had been paired with a boy who could make subtitles appear. Fun.

No way. Red blow bubbles. Friggin' bubbles. Not big ones someone could ride in, or even normal sized ones. She blew the tiny little bubbles you get when you wash the dishes. I don't think I've seen Speed look so annoyed.

Mickey followed where my eyes were focused on and gave a breathy laugh. She clapped her hands together gently, and slowly moved them apart, bubbles rising up and popping when they reached the ceiling.

"What all can you do? Y'know, so I know how to use you in battle," I added. We weren't 'bonding' anymore and I definitely wasn't interested because I wanted to know more about her. Not at all.

She shrugged. "Glitter, confetti, poppers, firecrackers, bubbles. Sometimes I can make fire, but it burns up pretty quickly," She paused, and I was sure she was holding back. Not a bad move, seeing as she was talking to a student villain.

"I... stretch," Comparing our powers out loud made mine seem pretty boring. But I was still way more awesome than her. Was my grammar right? Eh.

Mickey shifted, and her head rested against my shoulder. "I thought you were going to end me,"

"Your bruised stomach is enough for me,"

I raised a brow and lifted my shirt up to where she had punched me. There was a bruise forming in the middle of my abdomen, not a bad one, but one that would probably take a bit to go away completely.

"How much longer until Theoretical Villainy?" I asked, taking her, our, schedule out of my pocket and handed it to her.

"About twenty minutes,"

"Why are all the classes so short?"

"Well, all students participating in Heroes Coexist are volunteers for the Olympus Retirement Home. After lunch we take a bus, and after being assigned a retiree, we help them out. I'm not sure why we have to do it 'cos I can't see how sidekicks and heroes working together mesh with old supers, but maybe there's reason. I heard Titan moved in a few weeks ago. You think we'll get him? I hope not, he's supposed to be a super diva. Pun may or may not be intended," Mickey finally stopped to take a breath.

I really need to stop asking her for explanations. Poor girl might pass out from lack of oxygen. "So, we get out of school early to go help out a bunch of old heroes," I summarized.

"Actually, I think there's a few villains there who are too weak to do anything other than grumble about the bath water being the wrong temperature. Then again, that's actually pretty normal,"

Her legs were a good distraction from her rambling. Her boots were still untied. Or maybe they came untied when I held her in the air. I sighed and moved to sit in by feet. I pulled them onto my lap, getting her attention, and started tying her left boot.

"Are you tying my shoe?" She raised a brow.

"If there's one thing I'm good at, it's knots," I answered. Truthfully, I didn't know why I was tying her shoes, but I couldn't stop in the middle of a double knot. See? I can be nice.

"Hey, not so tight!"

"Do you want them to come untied again?" I argued.

"No, but I don't my foot to lose feeling either,"

"Maybe you should wear better shoes,"

"My boots are just fine, thank you,"

"Whatever you say, Punkin,"

"It's like you want to be punched again," My hands froze for a second, but I know she saw it because she leaned back with a content smile. I finished the knot and moved on to her right, tying it faster without any distractions. "Thank you,"

"Don't let it go to your head," I stood up, twisting to pop my back.

"You could've just accepted my gratitude, you jerk," She muttered, the small smile she had disappearing.

"Yeah, I could've," Ooh, puppy glare.

She held her hand out for me to take, and I just raised my brow at it. "Help me up," She huffed.

I grabbed her small hand, which was soft and warm and not soft and warm, and pulled her up to her feet. She dusted her the back of her legs off. Her shorts had rode up on her thighs a bit, and she pulled them down again. She started walking away, stopping to talk to the coach, before she walked out of the gym.

"Hey, man, where's Minnie?" If I hadn't been friends with Speed for years now, I probably would've jumped.

"Dunno. She just talked to the coach and walked out," I answered, turning to face him.

"Oh," He didn't look very interested. "Anyway, I don't know about you, but the second I can, some freshman sidekick is getting the swirlies of all swirlies. You in?"

That little annoying voice in my head, which was starting to sound a lot like Mickey, was telling me I was an idiot for even considering it. Part of my probation included not terrorizing my fellow schoolmates, but I don't think the person who added that in ever felt the joy of giving some sidekick a swirlie or hanging them upside down by their ankles.

I don't know why I even had to think about it.

"I'm in,"


	4. Chapter 4

Hey Mickey | Sky High

* * *

Lash should really fire his conscience.

* * *

Going from the Combat Coexisting class to standing over a cowering freshman was sort of a blur.

The sidekick we had stumbled across was doing his best to keep his head out of the toilet, and him using his sticky hands to grip the the sides wasn't helping any. If he would just let us dunk his head in, this would all be over, and we'd all be on our merry way. He could go back to class, Speed could laugh loudly as he ran around the poor kid to 'air dry' him, and I could get back to Mick- nope, not finishing that.

"Think of it like a facial cleanse," I offered. The sidekick glared at me. That's a first.

Would Mickey be glaring at me if she caught me? Not that I care. 'Cos I don't. She's just a stupid sidekick, like Sticky Hands here. If it were up to me, I'd dunk her head in a toilet, too.

_Liar._

Speed had resorted to forcibly pushing the sidekick's head. The freshman fought as much as he could, but Speed was stronger and had years of experience in giving swirlies. The blond's head was under the water after a few struggling moments, and he was screaming, which wasn't very smart to do in water. But hey, whatever floats his boat.

Speed gave me the honor of flushing. The kid started flailing around even more. Hilarious.

Once the sidekick was able to get his head free, he gaped at us, water dripping down from his hair and face. The top of his shirts was soaked, and in all I was proud.

"Two for flinching," I smirked when the sidekick's eyes widened. Before he could put up another fight, I had already shoved his head back in the toilet. Speed flushed this time, laughing maniacally. He should get that checked out.

"What do you think you're doing?" Speed and I both froze. Sticky Fingers was able to pull his head free, and all of us turned to see Mickey staring at us with her hands on her hips. Oops.

"Um," Speed and I looked at each other. He shrugged, leaving me to explain. Bastard. "See, the thing is, we came in here and saw this poor freshman with his head stuck in the toilet and were simply trying to rescue him," I smiled at her, knowing there was no way she was going to buy tat.

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that true, Speed?" He nodded quickly.

"Jason, is that true?" Who the hell is Jason- oh, crap. Sticky Fingers ran out of the stall, and hid behind Mickey, wrapping his arms around her. She glared at us for a few more moments before twisting in Jason's arms to hug him. "Don't worry about them, they be bothering anyone or having kids ever," She couldn't possibly mean that.

"Want me to walk you to class?" Jason sniffled, faker, and nodded.

Mickey gave us a warning glare before she led the sidekick out of the bathroom, the sidekick fake crying the whole time. Kiss ass.

"You're dead,"

I turned to Speed. "I am not,"

"You're so friggin' dead,"

"If I'm dead, you're dead, too," I countered.

Speed shook his head. "Nah, she ain't my partner. Mine is quiet redhead covered in freckles who's afraid to look at me. Minnie's all yours," He ran out before I could do or say anything, the bastard.

I thought about leaving, too, but decided that I might as well get punched as soon as possible. She was going to do it anyway, might as well get it over with. Normally, I wouldn't have cared about getting caught messing with some sidekick, but I really didn't want to go back to super juvie.

I shuddered at the thought of taco night.

"You," I looked up to see Mickey standing a few feet from me, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Me," Her eyes narrowed and I was starting to wish she would look like a puppy again. Something that small shouldn't be that scary.

"What am I going to do with you?" She asked no one, stepping towards me slowly. Her eyes went up and down my body. "Why Jason?"

"Sticky Fingers?" She glared, but nodded. "Eh, don't know. He's a freshman, sidekick, and he was alone. It was too perfect to pass up," Really, she should know this by now. Speed and I's MO hasn't changed for a while.

"His dad's the Dragon," Oh. Shite.

Mickey didn't give any hint that she was lying, and that only made it worse. "You'll cry at my funeral, won't you?"

She laughed. She actually laughed at my impending doom. "You lied," I accused, narrowing my eyes.

"No, Jason's dad really is the Dragon," Well, yay. "But he won't be the one dealing with you. Jason won't tell, and neither will I. No need to embarrass the poor kid even more. No, I'll just have to find a way to punish you without letting any _responsible_ adults finding out,"

"Well, I know one way you can punish me," I wiggled my eyebrows. "It involves handcuffs, whip cream, and lots of spanking,"

The punch to my arm was expected.

"You're gonna help me babysit my cousins this weekend," She couldn't be serious. She seriously wanted me to be around little kids that were related to her after she caught me in the act of bullying.

"You're serious?" Mickey nodded. "So, in exchange for you not ratting me out, I have to watch some twerps with you? That's all,"

"That's all," She assured. Damn morals.

"Why should I trust you?"

"You're my hero, and I'm your hero support," She answered like it was obvious. It really wasn't. "Now, come on, we have to get to Theoretical Villainy,"

She grabbed my sleeve and started pulling me out of the restroom.

"Mickey?" I started as she lead me to our next class.

"Hm?" She glanced back at me.

"Why were you in the boys restroom?"

"When Jason gets scared, he leaves a sticky residue everywhere. You probably have some on your shirt, actually," I felt down my shirt with my free hand, feeling something warm and gooey and _sticky _all over it. No bad deed goes unpunished.

Mickey stopped in front of our classroom door and turned to me. "This is the third time today I've been late to class, and I don't like it, so until lunch you're sticking with me unless I give you permission to leave,"

"What makes you think I'm going to listen to you?" I argued. She stamped on my foot in answer. "Got it,"

She shook her head and opened the classroom door. As we walked in, all eyes were on us, making me smirk. Mickey walked ahead of me, and poor thing should've watched where she was going. She tripped over my arm, falling face forward to the ground yet again, landing harshly on her outstretched glowing hands.

Wait.

Nope, her hands did not just glow. Except they did, and I saw it. Mickey must not have noticed what her hands were doing, or she didn't know that I noticed because she turned over to glare at the students who laughed at her. They shut up.

"I will crush you," I heard Mickey mutter under her breath.

I stepped in front of her, smirking down at her. "Sorry, what was that?"

"What?" She could feign innocence all she wants, we both know what she said.

I held my hand out for her to take, briefly wondering how many times we were going to hurt one another today, and she grabbed my wrist instead. After pulling Mickey to her feet, I walked to the only two seats left in the room; at a round 'contemplation' table with another team.

Mickey huffed and pushed past me, taking the seat next to some hero I remembered taking on in Save the Citizen. He sucked.

"Hey," He greeted Mickey, adding a toothy smile to it. He needs braces.

"Hey, Aaron," Mickey smiled back. Does she know every guy I can't stand in this school, or was it just a happy coincidence? "I heard you got the internship you applied for. How's it- ow!" Mickey snapped her head to look at me, glaring.

"Did you just pinch me?" She accused.

"You have no proof of that," I answered easily. She narrowed her eyes even more and clapped her hands before slowly opening them. A bunch of white paper balls filled her hands. Oops.

She threw them down, hard, on the table right in front of me where my arms were. They all popped loudly, snapping at my bare hands. They didn't hurt, more annoying than anything, like when someone pinches me- oh, clever girl.

"That's one way to take on an enemy, Miss Listler," We both turned to look at the teacher who had a condescending little grin on his ugly face. "But please refrain from doing it again, if you can,"

"Of course, Mr. Hanson," Mickey said with an innocent smile that brought back all the puppy-ness about her. She kicked my shin under the table when Hanson turned back to writing on the blackboard.

I leaned over to Mickey, my mouth close to her ear. "We'll finish this later," I smirked in satisfaction when she shivered. From my words or my breath on her ear, I didn't know, but either one was just fine with me.

She stared at me as I leaned back in my chair, her eyes glued to mine. After a few moments she broke the gaze, turning back to Aaron. "Is it true you went up a Class?"

Aaron shrugged. "Uh, yeah. No big deal,"

"You're the first animator to be Class Four, it's a pretty big deal," Mickey said with a roll of her eyes.

"I guess," I rolled my own eyes. He's so fishing. "I should celebrate then, huh? Wanna go to the Paper Lantern with me tonight? Ya know, to celebrate," Real smooth, Casanova.

Mickey opened her mouth her answer, but didn't say anything when I leaned over again, putting my arm on her shoulder. "Actually, Mickey already said she was taking me out tonight, to honor my conversion to heroism,"

Mickey glared at me and I raised a brow at her, challenging her to deny it. With a sigh, she turned back to Walt Disney. "Sorry, Aaron, but I did promise Lash. Maybe some other time,"

His face fell, but I'll give him credit for recovering from the clear rejection quickly.

Mickey put her mouth near my ear, and I prepared myself for the threat. "You're buying,"

I think I have a date.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey Mickey | Sky High

* * *

Lash is a ladies man.

* * *

Mickey sat across from me, looking over her menu. Her brows were furrowed a bit. Cute.

I hadn't expected she treat this like a real date, and she didn't surprise me. She was still wearing her Deadpool shirt, still in her shorts that made her legs evil, still in those boots with the cursed laces. She had pulled her hair into a ponytail, though.

"You ready to order?" Of course. Of all the waiters and waitresses, my booth gets Peace. Well, this is a great way to start a date off. Not date. This is not a date.

Peace sent me a glare before focusing on Mickey. She smiled up at him. Traitor. "Not yet, but can you make sure to only spit in Lash's food?"

Double traitor.

"Not a problem. Whenever you're ready," Don't think I didn't catch that second meaning, Peace. If I find saliva in my food, I'm suing the MSG out of this place.

"Wipe that look off your face," Mickey ordered after Peace walked off. "Warren won't risk his grandmother's wrath just to get a little revenge on you," I could practically hear her say 'the likes of you.' Because I wasn't good enough to get revenge on apparently.

"I'm not hungry," I said, tossing my menu on the table.

Mickey raised an eyebrow. "You've been begging for food since retirement home. You actually stole some little girl's trail mix,"

"Well, you gave it back," I countered. Let's make that triple traitor.

"Only after you ate all the M&Ms," She shot back.

She held up her hand, and Peace walked back over to us. We ordered our food, and I'm pretty sure Peace was trying to figure out to mess my order up without it being too obvious.

After he took our menus, and gave me another burning glare, Mickey turned to me with an expression on her face that told me I wasn't going to like this.

"So, are you going to tell me why you were jealous?" Jealous? No, I am not. Was not. Whatever.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I waved off, suddenly interested in my drink.

"When Aaron was trying to ask me out," She insisted. Did she have to bring that up? Why can't she live in the now, and not in the past? She should see someone about that.

I shrugged. "Whatever,"

"Well, for the record, I would've said no,"

"You would've?"

Mickey smiled. "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, Aaron is a good friend, and he's perfect dating material, but I just don't like him. Something's off with him. Maybe he's too much of a certain thing, and not enough of another. I guess. I mean, I could meet a guy just like him and fall head over heels. Or a guy the complete opposite. Or someone who's in-between. I don't know," She trailed off with a shrug.

Mickey could be a professional therapy patient with all the rambling she does.

"Well, don't be so flattered. I only did it to piss off Walt Disney," Not the whole truth and nothing but the truth, but I'm not under oath at the moment.

She just half shrugged, taking a sip from her drink, and didn't look me in the eyes. Bitch didn't believe me.

"Here's your food," Peace's voice caught our attention, and we turned to him as he set the steaming plates of food in front of us. I checked mine for any sign of spit.

"Thanks, Peace," Mickey smiled. Did she have to smile at every guy I didn't like? I swear she was doing it on purpose.

"No problem, Listler," Peace grunted. Okay, maybe he didn't grunt, but it was close enough. Hot Head walked away, not even saying anything to me. Bastard.

"You can stop glaring at him, Lash," Dammit, there's that feeling in my chest. I wished it would hurt so I could hate her for it.

"I wasn't glaring at him," I lied.

She raised a brow at me. "Then who?"

"Everyone and no one," Mystery route, works every time.

"You're such a loser," Mysterty route, works most of the time.

"I'm not a loser," I glared. Mickey raised a brow at me, challenging me to get more upset about it. I leaned back into the booth, muttering, "I'm not a loser,"

She laughed, and I honestly hoped she was laughing with me and not at me. "Okay, okay, you're too cute to be a loser,"

"What did you say?"

Her eyes widened a bit. "I said you're not a loser,"

"That's not all you said, Punkin," I smirked and laid my arms over the back of the booth. I have her now. "You think I'm cute. Too cute, actually,"

She averted her eyes. "What's your point?"

Oh, man, this was good. "What's my point?" I pushed my food to the side and leaned over the table. She copied me, our faces inches apart. "My point is, we've been flirting all day-"

"And hurting each other," She added.

"Whatever. We've been hitting and hitting on each other all day, we're on a date, you think I'm too cute, I think you're way hot, and there's some obvious sexual tension,"

Her cheeks reddened a bit. "Still not seeing your point,"

"Come on, Mickey, we both know what I'm talking about. Us. Together. Possibly falling in love, probably getting it on," Her blush darkened. Point to me.

"You know, most of the time it takes a lot longer, and more drama, before people in our situation get together in some climatic moment, usually with a dramatic and passionate kiss," That sounded like a lot of work. "But I think we both know how it's going to end,"

She smelled good. "And how's that?"

I smirked as we both leaned in even more, our lips barely touching when someone cleared their throat. We moved away from each other, and saw Peace glaring at us. Didn't he have anything better to do than interrupt us?

"Everything good?" Peace grunted.

Mickey's cheeks were faintly pink as she avoided looking up at the Human Matchstick. I smirked to myself.

"Yeah, everything's fine,"


End file.
